


A Dictionary of Us

by lulusonebluejacket (anomeganeyatsu)



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: A to Z of elu, Drabble Collection, M/M, inspired by a novel, this is highly self-indulgent really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-01-13 04:40:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18461684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anomeganeyatsu/pseuds/lulusonebluejacket
Summary: This is a drabble collection inspired by the format of The Lover's Dictionary by David Levithan.





	1. A

**Author's Note:**

> I'm writing this in between my thesis. This is the only break I could give myself TAT
> 
> If you've read The Lover's Dictionary, good for you. If not, mec what are you doing, go read it please.

**Abditive,** _adj._

“Who’s your target?” Yann asks me.

“Tonight?” I smirk and turn towards the crowd in Emma’s living room.

“Yeah. Tells us,” Arthur urges as he takes a hit from the joint Yann hands over to him.

I lift the bottle of beer to take a sip, but my hand stills from tipping the contents into my mouth. Instead, the bottle’s lip brushes across my own, back and forth, as my eyes consider the dancing bodies.

They linger on a few faces. The thoughtful hum I make has the boys eyeing me with eagerness. I gesture towards the living-room-turned-dance-floor for a night, the bottle still in my hand.

“The little brunette,” I say, and I finally let myself drink.

The boys clamor over each other, as they picked apart my choice. The music is loud, and in this small room it carries over through the space. There are snaps of conversations all over but none of it makes sense unless you’re close or actively taking part in it (and that means deliberately eaves dropping).

Arthur says something that reels back my wandering thoughts.

“Boob size doesn’t matter guys,” I comment, a bit of annoyance bleeding into my voice. It’s a progressive thought for a guy my age whose concepts of beauty, love, and anything really, are influenced by societal standards that’s been fed to us by an increasingly toxic group of people via media, school, and all sorts of institutions our whole lives. (I’m also pretty sure I’m drunk and high if my thoughts are leaning onto one of Yann’s Marx lectures.) Except that isn’t the case.

I don’t tell them the brunette I’m referring to was the one the girl was blocking. The one who’s dancing with his friends and seems to be as lost in the music as I was to my own thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2

**Abort** , _v._

My brains is panicking. The sound of your voice has my heart stuttering. I’m not ready. To acknowledge you means admitting something about myself that I’m still not ready to share to the world.

So I do something stupid.

And I hate it.

Denying where I left Yann’s scarf is the same as denying what we had that Friday night. I’m denying those meaningful gazes, the comfortable yet loaded silence, the gestures of giving pieces of ourselves to each other.

I know the exact moment I hurt you. The way your smile wavered. Your eyes growing shuttered. The perfunctory smile you give me. It’s a sequence of actions that increasingly make it obvious.

I want to take it back. But I remember how you hurt me first. How you made me want you, made me hope. Only for you to snatch it away when you kissed that girl outside your apartment with me standing right there just a few meters away, just after I left your apartment no more than a minute ago.

And I’ve never been a saint.

I still hate it.

You snatched my hope. I snatched the light out of your eyes.

Aren’t we quite the pair?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey mecs! There's a different first chapter because I had to arrange the words alphabetically hehe
> 
> Love y'all!!
> 
> P.S. I haven't gotten to finishing the next chapter of my Ran Off in the Night. My thesis defense is in a few days and I've got exams this coming week too. There's no such thing as a holiday this last semester I guess orz

**Aflutter** _, v._

I’m early.

The common room is empty save for the meager items it usually housed. There are some additions now. Like the tarp tucked against the wall where the eye-sore of a mural was painted on, a step ladder, nondescript paint cans that pinned the tarp in its place, along with several paintbrushes next to it.

I realize I’m far from dressed to be helping in repainting the mural. I’m in pants I rarely wore, a nice sweater—which Daphne says brings out my eyes—and my hair isn’t the usual mess it is around this time.

I glance at my phone.

_12:50._

Ten minutes isn’t much. It’s enough.

I make my way to the cans of paint and plop myself and my bag on the floor. I try to ignore the excited and hopeful butterflies migrating from my stomach to my chest.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lovely [tpanda073](https://tpanda073.tumblr.com) over on tumblr sent me the set of words that'll be finishing up the letter A entry. Thank you once again!

**Allay,** _v._  

You’re shaking like a leaf in my arms. There’s a growing patch of wetness on the material of my jacket, your tears mixing with the sweat sliding down my neck.

Normally, that would’ve disgusted me.

Normally, I would have pushed you away.

But instead I hold you tighter. Pull you closer. Your hood is pulled over your head and you still won’t look me in the eye. You’re hiding. Like you usually do. I realize that now. It surprises me just how much we’re alike, you and me.

It’s also because of you that I’m braver.

It’s because of you that I start to gradually reclaim myself.

It’s because of you I realize I’m—

“—not alone anymore,” I repeat, brushing my lips on your hairline, nose buried on the fluff of hair poking out of your hoodie. It’s the only thing my lips could reach in this position.

I’m ready to pass out. A part of my brain feels cold. You don’t need to know how I ran here, channeling my inner Usain Bolt. Or that I almost wouldn’t have found you if that car hadn’t pulled the breaks at that second. What matters is that I’m here. Now. With you.

It’s freezing in the tunnel and I should get you out of here soon if I don’t want either of us to get sick. But for now, we hold each other. Cling to one another and refuse to let go. You’re breaking into pieces right in front of me, but you probably won’t believe me when I say I’m breaking right there with you.

I knew in myself, even if things were rough right now,

_We’re going to be okay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My inbox is open for letter B suggestions this week. Drop by on my [tumblr](https://lulusonebluejacket.tumblr.com) if you have any suggestions, or any prompts you'd like me to do :)))


	5. Chapter 5

**Anticipation,** _n._

Your fingers wrap themselves around my elbow, stopping me from leaving. I retract, stepping back into the same spot.

Your hand reaches out to me. I half expect you to cup my face, pull me in and finally give me that kiss we both know is building in between the silences, the spaces and stares we’ve shared all throughout the night.

I remain oblivious to my own lungs holding my breath. As if some being placed the tip of their finger on me and I’m trapped in this one singular second of my life.

Those slender fingers caught a lock of hair in between them, sliding from the bottom to the tip and letting it fall with the rest. Fixed and in place, a glaring contrast from the swirling emotions inside of me. The breath rushes into my lungs and time resumes.

I stare up into your eyes. And there’s a curious expression on your beautiful face. I can’t name the emotion but I’d like to believe it mirrored the turmoil and disappointment in my own.

“ _Salut_ ,” you say and you step back into the threshold of your apartment, back into that dark private space.

I stand here in the light, separated from you by that closed door. It’s nearly impossible to hold back the fond look I know is tracing itself on my face. I huff a breath, wrap my arms around the box of beer you’ve just given me and leave.


	6. Chapter 6

**Audacious,** _adj._

I don’t know what pushed me to say those words.

The beer in my hand? Your unabashed offer to take me to your apartment? That look in your eyes? That little laugh? That smile? There’s too many and too little things that could be signs. Am I reading this right? Am I imagining things?

I want you so bad and that scares me.

I had thought that my feelings for Yann had been strong, all consuming. I did ruin his relationship, didn’t I? Played the master puppeteer, tugging the strings to lead the characters in the story. But in the end, I was the puppet. A puppet to my own feelings. My own loneliness. I was ambitious, thinking Yann would fall in my arms once Emma was out of the picture.

But I was stupid. Naïve. And I lost one of my best friends. And sometimes, I feel like I’m slowly losing Yann too. All of it my own doing.

But then you came along.

I had slowly realized that I never really did want Yann like that, didn’t love him the way I had thought. Your sudden entrance in my life only made it clearer.

You scare me. You scare me because I’m standing at edge. Looking right at the bottom, and I know I’ll take that step. I’ll take that step and I don’t know if you’ll be down there to catch me. Or I’m going to be consumed by the waves and dragged under.

And yet I still said them. I stared at your drawing. The little raccoon sitting there alone in that expanse of white, scared, lonely, and I could just see his limbs shaking as it stared at whoever trapped him in that corner.

_I’m getting better at drawing myself._

You’re braver than me. Offering that tidbit of yourself without me asking for it. You’re showing yourself to me. Shedding a bit of that mask.

And I take that step, because you took it first.

_And if you had to draw me? How would you do it?_

**Author's Note:**

> I don't usually write in First Person. So, this is going to be a ride.
> 
> Oh and, if you mecs would like to; send me some random words! For this week, anything starting with A. Send it to me over on [tumblr](https://lulusonebluejacket.tumblr.com). I'll probably close my submit box by Thursday 12:00 AM (GMT 8:00+).
> 
> Thank you for reading!! Have a great day~~ uwu


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